Grand Theft Auto: Crime Pays

Oxford and Dundee. Yes - Oxford and Dundee.

When most people envisage the origin of the Grand Theft Auto series, they probably see radical, extravagant, hipster-like young American kids whose flair and creativity is mirrored by the tall, piercing skyscrapers of a major American city rising behind them, accentuating their master plans that will not only change the gaming landscape for ever, but will usher video-games into pop culture alongside music, books and films.

What those people don't know is that the origins of GTA don't come from youngsters with large glasses, but instead, an ordinary Scotsman from Dundee and two posh, English and London-born brothers who are Oxford University graduates.

In the 90s, when the Scottish game designer, David Jones, was busy of coming up with the primitive rendition of GTA (he originally conceived it as a racing game) the prep school/Oxford graduates, Dan and Sam Houser, were embracing their insatiable lust for East Coast hip-hop at the now defunct BMG Music. Not exactly what their top-of-the-line education entailed - Dan graduated from Oxford with a degree in Geography and Sam studied History. But just like Grand Theft Auto's phenomenal success in the 2000s proved, life can certainly be unpredictable.

David had trouble getting funding for his digital concept. No publisher had the balls to touch the dark, mature themes GTA represented. Fortunately for our Scotsman, Dan and Sam's artistic tastes had a penchant for violence and crime. As children, the two had grown up watching and idolising American crime films. Anyone who's played  the GTA games will notice that central parts of the games are inspired by classic crime movies/television. When Sam and Dan got wind of this game where the player played as the protagonist who had the ability to fuck shit up, it appealed to their artistically deviant ways. They were able to secure funding for the project with the newly established BMG video-game department. They proceeded to work as producers, writers and directors of the game.

When the three Brits collaborated in 1995, they created Grand Theft Auto, a video-game that spat in the face of good-natured behaviour not just in the interactive entertainment area, but also society at large. The player didn't play as a protagonist who had unquestioning morality (the norm for 99% of action games) he played as an anti-hero who would steal and kill anyone (a bad guy, a cop, a civilian - he didn't make distinctions) on the whim.

Grand Theft Auto, the first game that was released in 1996, was primitive by even those days'standards. It was a top-down, 2D bird's eye view experience. It looked like something that belonged in the late 80s. But it was nevertheless an underground hit. It was new, bold, radical - a proverbial fuck you to society. And society responded in kind. Politicians in the United States called for an outright ban and in certain countries, they obliged the wish conservatively inclined politicians Stateside yearned for. GTA was banned in Brazil and other countries.

I first played Grand Theft Auto 1 in 2000, courtesy of a childhood best friend. As a wide-eyed ten-year-old who wanted to be an astronaut one week and a game designer the next, I marveled at the chaos that was available at my fingertips; I loved running over pedestrians, blowing up police cars with tanks and serving as a hitman for power-hungry sociopaths. The game defiled society's norms and as a kid who had a penchant for dares, it appealed to me.

Despite the first GTA being an underground hit that was widely condemned by politicians in the 1990s, its primitive, outdated 2D game engine limited it to the hardcore PC gamers who were savvy enough to devour gems that didn't sail by in the mainstream river. There were three more Grand Theft Auto games on the 2D engine in the late 90s - GTA 2, set in the future and the expansion pack of GTA London, set in 1970s London. As the ambitious ten-year-old, I played both games. I was infatuated. It wasn't until October 2001 that I fell in love.

October 2001 was the month of Grand Theft Auto 3. October 2001 is a time the video-game industry, contemporary pop culture and I, will remember for some time. GTA 3 was something the world didn't expect. The video-game publisher, Take-Two Interactive, bought the game from the financially suffering BMG and the Houser Brothers (David Jones left the series to work on another project) ditched the outdated 2D engine. They created the now world renowned Rockstar Games, now a video-game developer and publisher in its own right. Under Rockstar games, this new, ridiculously ambitious Grand Theft Auto featured an immersive, 3D, tightly compressed and fictional rendition of New York as the game world.

It was a living and breathing city that was beautifully designed - pedestrians milling about reacted accordingly when you bumped their shoulders; piercing skyscrapers formed the black back-drop against the glare of the rising and setting sun; there was a chilling, ambient day and night cycle that was supported by moody curtains of fog and melting silver of rain; ambulances, police cars and fire engines wailed to the scene when the protagonist caused chaos; a long, strong, gripping storyline  was supported by a mosaic of engrossing characters brilliantly voiced by renowned Hollywood actors; seven professionally produced radio stations added joy, atmosphere and nostalgia and most importantly, there were no limits. Prior GTA 3, games constricted the player with unremitting linearity - the game was the sergeant and you were the private. GTA changed that. This digital, polygon world was your playground. It was yours to do whatever you wished.

As an eleven-year-old who was experiencing his first year at secondary school, I still have fond memories of losing countless hours as I cruised through the roads of Staunton Island, a fleet of law enforcement on my tail as a badass hip-hop tune pounded on Game Radio. I still have fond memories of rushing home from school and going to a friend's house so that I could help him with the most difficult missions. I still have memories of singing the songs from the game's addictive radios with religious fanaticism.

GTA 3 did not only revolutionalise the gaming industry, but it also brought the series onto the map on an unprecedented scale that the gaming industry was yet to witness. People who had zero interest in games would sit down in front of the PlayStation, jack a car and gleefully perform drive-bys on Yardies, the cacophony of police sirens screaming behind them as the luminescent glare of a police helicopter searchlight kissed the chrome of their damaged sports car. GTA 3 became the best-selling game on the PS2 until the series' 1980s' set successor, Vice City, was released the following year.

The game's completely redesigned game world  added a much more visceral, more realistic element in comparison with the earlier games, and it also heightened the public outcry from society's adults. The Sun and The Daily Mail called for an outright ban of this monstrosity - politicians in Washington D.C. were holding meetings with the aim of thwarting this evil crime simulator. What those detractors didn't realise was that their crusades were a paradox - they wanted to destroy GTA but they only served to make it more successful. Their outcries intensified GTA's exposure; more attention meant more sales.

Many open-world games that were described as "GTA clones" due to the game's features consisting of open-world cities where the player could drive any vehicle and could kill anyone he wanted, followed soon after GTA 3's release. As with most imitations, none of them were able to recapture the same magic of Rockstar Games' baby.

GTA 3 was only the beginning of the series' astronomic success. The sequels on the PS2 era, Vice City and San Andreas, added and improved on GTA 3. From the sun-kissed, bikini-clad beaches of Vice City that reminds players of soothing, electric 80s pop to the sprawling mass of environments in the fictional state of San Andreas, the GTA series cemented its place as the champion of the gaming world, San Andreas holding the record for the most sales on the PS2. GTA 4, the highly detailed, HD revisit of Liberty City on the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360, proceeded in the fashion of its predecessors - it broke the record for the most sold units in a week after release and earned perfect review scores from most reviewers. To this day, the GTA series has sold more than 114 million units and the Houser Brothers have a net worth of 80 million dollars each.

The GTA series has been described as a cultural phenomenon and whilst I certainly detest to ascribe to loosely labelled cliches, I would have to agree. When you listen to a track on YouTube that was been featured on one of the immensely popular radio stations on a GTA game, there will be a host of GTA players that will comment on how they heard the track on one of the games. When there's a real-life high speed chase that features a police shootout, many think of Grand Theft Auto.

There is no other game series that creates the same buzz the Grand Theft Auto series does. Prior release of a game, it seems the entire video-game industry is bewitched by a spell that has its inhabitants drooling from the mouth, eyes wide and brains alert for the smallest details concerning the game.

As the world impatiently waits for GTA 5, set for release in Autumn 2013, if there's one thing that the GTA series has proved in its 17-year-old lifespan, its that when it comes to digital polygons, crime sure does pay.

Sports and Money

People love complaining about the salaries professional athletes receive. 

“X gets paid 50 million a year for throwing a ball in a hoop while soldiers get paid 20,000 pounds a year for putting their lives on the line and defending freedom and democracy,” is the common detraction from the Average Joe in a bid to castigate the sports industry and its screwed up morals. 

Okay, fair enough, point made. Now ask yourself this – would you pay 40 pounds to watch a soldier fighting against insurgents, or pay 40 pounds to watch a doctor perform heart surgery or pay 40 pounds to watch a teacher teach?

I’m not belittling the services these people offer mankind – regarding the necessities of society, one surgeon is much more important than Wayne Rooney and Andy Murray combined. Morally and ethically, surgeons and doctors are far superior. But we don’t live in a world that’s limited by morals or ethics.  It’s much more complex than that. In fact, more often than not, we live in a world that’s dictated by economics. And the law of economics states that is perfectly conceivable and more so, right that a top professional athlete earns more in one day than a teacher will in his or her entire life.  I know a few people will be frothing at the mouth at such a statement, but let me explain.

In 2010, the boxer, Floyd Mayweather, earned 85 million. He was the highest paid athlete for that year. He fought two fights during 2010. Two fucking fights and he lands himself a fee close 100 million.  The fact that this guy only had a couple of bouts will probably inspire a torrent of rage in the detractors.

However, let me tell you this – when Floyd Mayweather has a fight, 85 million is actually a fraction of the money he generates. Millions of people buy pay per view deals to watch him fight in their living room – corporate sponsors pay millions to have their products advertised, television deals reach in excess of hundreds of millions. Floyd Mayweather’s name, his brand, is highly marketable – it puts money in people’s pockets and indirectly, that money creates a lot of jobs. The money that Floyd Mayweather makes (along with the many other pro athletes that get paid millions) is not only a fraction (yes, a fraction) of what his name generates. He brings in much more money than 85 million to a variety of people.

A soldier’s name is not marketable – a surgeon’s name is not marketable, because the fields both respective professionals operate in are not marketable to the masses that crave for entertainment. They don’t inspire whole countries to stop on a Sunday evening in anticipation of the coming result.

Floyd Mayweather’s salary is simply part of the laws of economics and capitalism. That’s why top athletes are able to get paid such an obscene amount of money. That money doesn’t come from some golden well reserved for athletes – it comes from us, from society. It comes from season ticket sales, from team shirt sales, from television subscriptions.

Morally and ethically, I don’t agree with the amount of money pro athletes get. However, economically, I totally agree with the amount of money athletes get. Economically, they deserve every penny they get. I always find it curious and contradictory when a sports fan complains about the salaries of players, yet this same person religiously renews his season ticket year in and year out at a fee of hundreds of pounds.

Economics, economics, economics.

    

Temptation

In the 1960s and 70s, the American Mafia resulted to something they vowed to never indulge in – drugs. Heroin. Prior this new business venture for the Mafioso, the commission of all the major Mafia Families had always shunned the world of drugs, preferring to stick to more traditional ways of making money illegally in the form of rackets, heists and gambling. Drugs were seen as dirty, dishonourable – only fit for peddling in the rough neighbourhoods of inner city ethnic minorities. However, since the conception of man, since Adam and Eve, temptation has always been one of the most predominate Achilles Heels of the mind, body and soul.

The huge, almost inconceivable profits the drug trade offered was the Mafia’s ultimate temptation – it was what saw the collective Italian crime outfit make in excess of 20 billion dollars per annum as they sold heroin transported from the rolling, rural hills of Sicily in the congested boroughs of New York and many more US cities. Temptation wasn’t the only thing that made the Mafia make more money than they knew what to do with – it was also what ultimately crippled and eventually destroyed them.

Not a lot of people give a fuck if you’re making a few dollars hosting illegal card games or running one or two rackets. But people do tend to give a fuck when you’re making much more money than global corporations and you’re filling the streets with poison. The Mafia knew that selling drugs didn’t only bring much more law enforcement on their operation, but they knew that the cardinal rule was that if you were caught selling drugs, then the same people you broke bread with would be the same people that would put a bullet in your brain. There was too much at stake to leave the risk of someone talking to the FBI, bringing down the entire organization in exchange for full immunity.

But did all those considerations that should have spurned reservations, stop them? Nope. Why? Temptation – the thought of making more money in a single month than you’ve ever made in your entire life is tempting, right . . . right? You know it is. Put yourself in a Mafia Capo’s (captain) shoes. You’re already engaged in illegal activity, even though the legal and traditional ramifications in rackets and gambling are nowhere near as disastrous as being busted with 50 pounds of heroin. Back to the point – are you telling me if you were an ambitious Mafia capo and you knew you could make more than a million dollars by shifting the 50 pounds of H on your desk, you wouldn’t do it? I’ll be honest – I would.

I would not because I’m particularly ruthless or cavalier, but because I’m a human being who has succumbed to temptation in many forms. So have you. It may be the little temptations you don’t even notice – instead of doing an assignment for university that’s due in tomorrow, you procrastinate and decide to watch a movie. Just like Adam and Eve and the Apple and the Snake, the temptation of fun entertainment that will whisk you away from the bollocks that is reality has prevailed over you.

And she’s laughing – this wicked, cunning temptress is laughing at you cause she knows she’s got you. She knows that you’re just like the Mafia – you’ll make promises which, in the face of the sexy rewards temptation offers, will melt like a naked chocolate bar in the Sahara Desert.

Haters Defined

The ancient proponents of the theory of Freedom of Expression would love the advent of the internet. It is an interconnected web that contains an immeasurable mass of never-ending data. It promises a wealth of opinions and counter-opinions. It challenges perceptions. It breeds knowledge. It also encourages and provides privileges to a certain group of people who capitalise on the internet's promise of anonymity. This group is commonly know as "haters."

The term "hater," which was originally popularised by hip-hop artists, is a word that contains broad connotations. Why? Well, there are a variety of haters. They don't all wear the same colours, nor do they practice the same creed. Haters, like every other living thing on the planet, have a penchant for evolution. As time has passed, as avenues for this group of people to vent their negativity has expanded, haters have splintered into a series of individual fractions (sub-species if you like) in which they practice their philosphy.  In this post, I will highlight and elaborate on three hater sub-species.

  1. THE SPORTS FAN HATER

The sports fan hater is one of the most common sub-species of haters that dwell on the internet. This hater loves his team with religious fanaticism - he will defend his team with astounding myopia, regardless of the subject. However, what makes the sports fan hater effective isn't the defence of his team - it his ability to bounce from article to article, forum to forum and video to video, regurgitating the same old diatribe against his intended target(s), usually in the form of a rival sports team or player. Sometimes these haters have a large list of teams they spew their invective towards, but the best, most efficient haters, focus on a small, exclusive list in which they relentlessly hammer.

Most sports fan haters just come out with bullshit one-hit-liners. To them, facts are inconsequential - opinions are concrete. They drift from one comment section to another, leaving statements like: "Haha, it's not LeBron - its LeChoke!" "Fergie didn't win all those titles himself - the refs did it for him." "Good to see the whores at City pimping their souls for money." "Liverpool fans complaining about the opposition cheating when they have Luis Suarez on their team is the height of irony." "Celtics thinking they'll win the Eastern Conference . . . yeah and I'm gonna marry Mila Kunis."

For the most part, sports fan haters, particularly the most persistent ones that recycle the same rhetoric, are amusing. Their bullshit makes them endearing - in a stupid kind of way.

2. THE RACIAL HATER

Nothing is a better aid to racists than the promise of anonymity, which is one of the core elements of the internet. The topic of racism in the 21st Century is something of a paradox. While mankind has taken drastic steps to eradicate the scourge of bigotry (being branded and proved as "racist" in the modern day can have very detrimental effects on one's life) in the last one hundred years, the invention of the internet has also given shelter to many that wish they were living in the 1800s. Racism hasn't been eradicated - it simply went in hiding, and its shelter comes in the form of endless cushions on the internet which provide this breed of haters a chance to vent their diatribe (which they would never do face to face) without facing the consequences.

If there is one element of racism that angers me to the point of explosion, it is the rampant generalisation that brands the people in the victimised group under the same brush. A few days ago the Mexican and Canadian baseball teams were involved in a mass brawl. On the YouTube video, these were the comments that were common: "What do you expect from fucking wetbacks?" "Fucking Mexicans." "Is anyone surprised to see that spics are nothing more than animals?" "Filthy illegals."

So because of a handful of Mexican/Latino athletes that threw a few punches, people decide to use them as representative and reflective of the nature of all Mexican/ Latino people. Yes . . . seriously. I remember reading an article based on several studies on racist people. It claimed that racism is linked with low IQ, and after reading the many anti-Mexican/Latino comments in the aftermath of the brawl, I'm not inclined to disagree with that article.

3. CLASSISM HATER 

The classism hater (AKA elitist) is the kind who, in the most basic terms, can be described as a Grinch. This elitist, who thinks that nothing and nobody is worthy of His Eminence, will lament everything from modern television to how they just don't make coffee like they used to. The objective of this breed of haters is to highlight the decay that is swallowing modern society. As a testament to the species he belongs to, he will result to each and every avenue, regardless of its method, to hammer his point home. He will target music, films, pop culture . . . everything in contemporary society. He will drift back to a time when it wasn't all so crap - when social interaction from humans was once respectable.

The irony of the classism hater is that he seemingly has no concept of evolution. He doesn't realise that things HAVE TO change. If they didn't, then his favourite films and music of the past would not have been produced. His hobbies of once upon a time (now obsolete) evolved from a father and grandfather of tried, tested, and perhaps failed experiments. One of the distinctive traits of a hater is myopia - to be unable to ponder an argument from the other side of fence. And in this, the classism hater, who prides himself in reveling in a previous culture that is much superior to the contemporary culture, exhibits in shameless abundance.